Mari Shinjo Brothel ❤️❤️

About Tokyo

Oi mate, so I’m a Resnik, yeah? Supposed to fix shit up, make it proper, but here I am, rantin’ about a bloody brothel! Cackle cackle, what a joke, eh? Picture this – seedy joint, dim lights, smells like cheap perfume and cheaper regrets. Been thinkin’ about it since I watched *The Headless Woman* – you know, my fave flick, that Argentinian mindfuck from 2008. That line, “I don’t know what I hit,” keeps rattlin’ in me skull. Like, did she hit a dog or a prossie runnin’ from a brothel? Who knows, who cares, it’s all a blur, innit?

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But then, I step outside, and guess what? The rain’s stopped! Sunshine’s breaking through. I’m feeling good, like I can conquer the world. I stroll down to the shrine, and it’s beautiful. The cherry blossoms are in full bloom. I whip out my phone for a pic, and boom! My battery dies. Classic.

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